“Where?”
“Up and down the highway, all over.”
“Which highway?”
“The I-Forty.”
“Anyone see you?”
“No, it was just trees- I drove to the old prison, down west, where they film movies? There were these- with the white-striped blue pants? I guess they’re minimum-security prisoners, they’re always walking around, cleaning up.”
“Sounds like you go there a lot.”
“It’s quiet,” said Tristan. “Helps me think. I was there that morning. Parked on top of the hill and looked down at all those dirty gray walls and one of them saw me. He had a rake, was raking leaves. He saw me and waved, I waved back. I sat there a little more, drove back to the city, parked near the river, sat in an empty building and…that’s what I was doing when the cops found me.”
“Thinking about killing yourself.”
“I probably wouldn’t do it.”
“Probably?”
“It would be selfish, right? Like her.”
“Your mama.”
“She hated Jack,” said the boy. “Told me so, when she was screaming no way I was going to meet him, she’d make a scene.”
“Why’d she hate him?”
“For leaving her in the first place, then for coming back when she didn’t want him to.”
“She was married to Lloyd when she conceived you.”
“But things weren’t going so well,” said the boy. “Least that’s what she told me. She was bored and thinking of leaving Lloyd. My mom used to be Jack’s main groupie, she made like it was more, but that’s what it sounded like to me. Then he dumped her and they didn’t see each other for a long time. Then, she was visiting a friend in LA, looked him up. They hooked up for a couple of days. After she found out she was pregnant, she called him about it but he didn’t answer. So she went back to Lloyd and forgot about Jack.”
“And now he was coming back,” said Baker. “And being a bad influence on you. You really think she’d have killed him over that?”
“You don’t know her, sir. She sets her mind to something, she’s not going to be convinced otherwise. She’s got all sorts of people working the farm. Lots of trash.” Some animation had spread across Tristan’s face. “You don’t believe me because she’s rich and cultured.”
“Well,” said Baker, “if we had some evidence.”
“If she didn’t do it, who did?”
Baker sat back, placed his hands behind his head. “As a matter of fact, son, we’ve been thinking about you.”
The boy shot to his feet. Big boy, all those muscles. His jaw was tight and his hands were clenched. “I told you! That’s fucking insane! Meeting Jack was the coolest thing in my life, I was going to go to LA!”
“Your plan, not his.”
“He would’ve been into it!”
The detectives remained in their seats. Tristan glared down at them.
Lamar said, “Sit back down, son.”
“Stop calling me that!”
Lamar rose to his full height. Tristan was unused to looking up at anyone. He flinched.
“Please sit down, Tristan.”
The boy obeyed. “I’m really a suspect?”
“You’re what we call a person of interest.”
“That’s crazy. Fucking crazy. Why would I kill someone I loved?”
Baker said, “Maybe he changed his mind about singing your song.”
“He didn’t,” said Tristan. “But even if he did, that’s no reason to kill someone.”
“People get killed for all sorts of reasons.”
“Not by sane people- anyway, it never happened, he loved my songs. Read my e-mails, everything’s positive, everything’s cool- my laptop’s in the back of my car, it’s out of power but you can recharge it. My passwords DDPOET. Short for Dead Poet.”
“We’ll do that,” said Baker. “But no matter what your e-mail says, it doesn’t mean that Jack didn’t change his mind and decide not to sing your song.”
Lamar said, “People change their mind all the time. And Jack was real moody.”
“He wasn’t moody with me,” said Tristan. “I was important to him. Not like the others.”
“What others?”
“All those loser trailer trash women claiming they had his kids, sending him pictures of their loser kids. And stuff- songs, CDs he never listened to. I was the only one he was sure of. Because he liked my songs and because he remembered the exact day it happened.”
“The day you were conceived?” Baker asked.
“He told you about it?” Lamar questioned.
“It’s in one of the e-mails- if you ever get around to reading the computer. He even forwarded an e-mail she wrote him five years ago, when he was thinking of coming out to see me. She told him that she didn’t want to risk losing Lloyd and that I would never accept him because I was close to Lloyd. That unless he wanted to destroy her and me and everything she’d built with Lloyd, he needed to stay away. And he agreed. For my sake. It’s all in there. And he saved it for years.”
Lamar said, “Mom didn’t want to risk losing Lloyd.”
The kid smirked again. “Didn’t want to risk what Lloyd gave her. Eleventh commandment.”
“Jack had money, too,” said Baker.
“Not as much as Lloyd. Money has always been her first and only love.”
“You have strong feelings about your mama.”
“I love her,” said Tristan, “but I know what she is. You need to talk to her. I’ll give you her number in Kentucky. I know she’s there, even though she didn’t tell me she was headed there.”
“How would you know?”
“She always goes to the horses when she’s disgusted with me. Horses don’t talk back and if you put the time into them, you can eventually break ’em.”
They retrieved an IBM ThinkPad from the backseat of the VW, booted it up, spent an hour with Tristan’s old mail and sent mail. A tech ran a basic scan of the boy’s Internet history.
“Weird,” said the tech.
“What is?”